Weight
by 13th Dead End
Summary: Taub tried not to miss Kutner. He tried very hard. Taub/Kutner Season 5 Episode 20 Drabble.


Absolutely had to write something like this... Kutner was one of my favourite (arguably my favourite) characters and I miss him already. I couldn't take in what happened... I keep thinking he'll come back! Having recently lost a friend, this was an excellent excuse to write out a lot of emotions. Enjoy. (Don't cry!)

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_"See you tommorow?" Taub said with a small smile, searching in his briefcase for a lost file. Kutner was by the door, getting his coat off the hanger and pulling it on. It was around nine in the evening, the last case wrapped up and paperwork filed. Thirteen and Foreman had already gone home hours before, leaving the two alone to finish their work. _

_"Yeah." Kutner gave him a small smile and a wave, picking up his backpack. He picked up the coffee he had left on the table and left. Just like that. Taub didn't know it yet then, but it would be an image that would haunt him for the rest of his life; he watched his friend heading for the elevator through the glass partition, his pace absolutely normal, everything about him absolutely normal. He moved out of sight at the end of the corridor and Taub went back to shuffling his things and closing his briefcase. He tucked his chair in neatly, checked to see if nothing had been left on the floor as he usually did, grabbed his own coat, and left._

The memory haunted him now as he lay in bed. It was the last time he'd seen Kutner... he tried dividing the scene up into frames, and examining one by one, searching for something that would give him the faintest reason _why_. He'd gone to bed early, so his wife was still up working on her laptop in the kitchen. He could hear the clack of keys even from under the covers, with his head buried deep in the pillows. He would not allow himself to show any emotion, no matter what. To everyone at work, they'd just been colleagues and nothing more. It wouldn't be right for him to treat it a the tragedy it was in the workplace, so he decided to shove under the carpet. Whenever the thought of Kutner came across his mind, he blocked it out and started to recite under his breath the diagnosis for their last patient, trying to learn it word for word.

"Chris honey?" His wife opened the door a crack, spilling a stripe of golden light into the dark room. He didn't budge, steadying his breathing to sound asleep. She made the wise choice and closed the door, giving her another hour of work and Taub another hour of reflecting.

The next day at work was morose at the best. The team conducted differentials in flat tones, a certain red tint still present at the corners of Thirteen's eyes, House more silent and moody than he'd ever been. He would be the last one to show a scrap of affection, but Taub was doing a great job keeping up second place. He volunteered for all the tests House wanted them to run, and took his time doing them. He recited to himself in his head the guidelines and methods of using all the equipment, and took long talks with the patient. He was the only one who wasn't letting Kutner's death distract him from his job. So, they turned up their noses at him and thought him heartless. Hell if he cared. Kutner was dead and he wasn't going to think because it hurt too much.

_"Seriously, get your arms off me, you're way too drunk..." Taub tried to complain, but the wide grin on his face wasn't helping. It was their last Christmas party, and they'd stumbled away from the lobby area, drinks in plastic cups still in hand. Kutner had just draped an arm over Taub's shoulders and was humming a tune under his breath, making the older doctor want to join in. He felt his shoulder crash into a doorway and stopped, giggling. _

_"Oh heeey..." Kutner slurred. "Mistletoe." Taub looked up, and he opened his mouth to speak, but before words could come out, Kutner had lowered his head and met their lips in an alcohol-tasting, sloppy, but magnificent kiss. Maybe it was the alcohol, but it was a half hour before they got back to the lobby. It was safe to say Foreman and Thirteen weren't the only ones having fun that night._

House had written the stupid causes of death up on the whiteboard. Perfect. Way to make his job of forgetting a little easier. Annoyed, he glanced around the room, making sure everyone else was out doing god knows what, then turned the whiteboard around so it faced the wall, and he calmly made himself a cup of coffee before going off to monitor their patients' conditions. He was heading for the elevator when House and the other two - it was painful to think two, not three - came out of it, murmuring something about visiting Kutner's parents. House tried to rope him into coughing up his feeling, but Taub snapped back at him and went to run more tests for him. Foreman and Thirteen just looked, then sat like motionless rocks.

"Fine! I guess I'm the only one who cares about the patient! Kutner's dead, but she still has a chance!" He'd just mastered converting his sadness into anger; he congratulated himself on that.

_He woke up on Kutner's couch once, articles of clothing missing, a misplaced action figure poking uncomfortably into his spine, and with a terrible telltale headache. But it wasn't so bad, because the younger man was snoozing beside him, half on top of him, head resting against his chest, arms stretched out. He was a rock solid sleeper if there ever was one. It was good, Taub never had to worry about waking him up when he shifted a little in the morning so he could better watch the sleeping face or put his own arms around him._

_Then he would wonder what it all really meant, and if he even should be doing 'this'. And as usual, he'd shove it under the rug to think about later because now was just too damn nice to question._

"I need permission for the patient to-"

Cuddy nicely cut off all his questions and got to what she wanted to talk about, as usual. "Most of us are heading to the funeral now. Are you sure you don't want to...?"

"Patients dying. I think I need to look towards the people who still have a chance, the people who didn't want to die. I'm fine."

Lisa's natural instinct could see through his facade, and her eyes were glistening with tears and caring. "I'm sorry." She put on her black jacket and brushed past him on the way to the lobby. Taub stood there a moment, unsure. Then shook his head, returning to the patient's room, where they were both asleep. He stared with all his might at a crash cart, detailing to himself the functions of all the devices. Defibrillators, flat metal devices capable of restarting a heart through a shock...

_Taub was worried. "Are you sure you're alright?" They were in the lecture room, and all the other House Tryouts kids were off doing fun stuff. He had the duty of watching Kutner after his silly defibrillate-when-wet stunt. "I'm fine." The tan skinned man grinned wide. "I got the patient's heart working, risking myself! I am so getting House brownie points for that." Taub rolled his eyes and held back his smile at the kid's enthusiasm. It was way too endearing. "No, really. Don't you think you should be checked out?" He put his hand over Kutner's to get his attention, startling him a little, especially since Amber came in at that moment._

Goddamit. Taub wheeled the crash cart out of the room. Patients dying and all, yadda yadda. The woman was going to die, anyway. He might as well keep the big bad scary equipment out of her room. He took up his vigil outside the room, waiting. There was a soft pitter-patter of a drizzle at the window, and he forced himself to think about meteorology. The water cycle... yes. Very fascinating. Eventually the patient flatlined, and he had the pleasure of giving the husband some time before handing her over to the nurses who would take care of the nasty morgue stuff; he was disappointed. They'd diagnosed a patient too late, she died, and he'd lost his distraction from the world.

The hospital seemed to spin a little, so he staggered over to a bench. The hospital was fairly devoid of staff; most nurses had gone home from the night and the few that were left were out of sight. Most doctors had left for the funeral, wearing that solemn black he hated. House was nowhere to be found. He sighed, dropping down onto the bench and leaning back. He looked around to see if noone was there, then began dismantling the wall he had built around himself. Perhaps if her let it all drop, he would feel better.

With the wall came down the world, and a cold shiver seemed to descend the back of his spine as the second shock wave descended on him; Kutner was dead. He killed himself and there was nothing noone could have done about it - no, maybe he could have done something. He knew Kutner better than anyone. He loved Kutner better than anyone. And in the end, he was powerless to stop Kutner... ending himself, so out of nowhere, so out of the blue. Maybe if he'd only said something on that last night... offered him a drink, offered to take him to dinner, offered for him to come over... then perhaps Kutner wouldn't be dead, and he'd be sitting right there beside him, comforting him over the patient's death. Taub looked sideways.

It was almost unreal. He felt like Kutner was going to burst through the lobby doors any moment now and apologize, with a sheepish grin, for being ridiculously late to work, because you see, his dog HAD indeed been sick and... the alternate scenarios were too much. Taub's shoulders began to shake, and leaning his head back, he allowed the tears to roll down his cheeks silently.

That big idiot. That silly grin, those bad House-imitating metaphors, those crazy treatment plans, those equipment mishaps, those collectibles and star trek conventions. Those sunny mornings, those nights out, those late work hours. He was going to miss it all, and it hurt more with every moment. If it was possible for a heart to break in two, he'd say that had happened to him, but he was a doctor, he didn't believe in silly things like broken hearts.

_"She'll kill me if she finds out-"_

_"Then don't let her find out. You're... good at the lying thing." Kutner wasn't drunk for sure this time, he'd only had one drink. But his lips were trying to catch Taub's again, and the sober man was failing to resist. When he didn't taste strongly of alcohol, it was a certain spice and an indescribable... something else that made it perfect all over again._

_"I'm good at lying." He repeated, placing his hands on the back of Kutner's head and pushing their lips together again, deeper. He pried the younger doctor's mouth open and felt fire spreading through his veins. He was alive._

_"Love you." Kutner had said._

_Taub thought a moment. A few moment really. He loved two people. "Love you too."_

If he'd never lied... it was then.

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End file.
